Seven Deadly Sins
by silentlullabye
Summary: Torchwood is suffering from a few deadly sins...
1. Jealousy

Jealousy

First in the Seven Deadly Sins Series

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Jealousy has driven him mad!

- Moulin Rouge

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Owen—

Owen is not sure what he wants exactly. Or where he's going. Or what he'll do once he gets there. Or even if he'll make it there. Lately he has just tried to live each day of this crappy life, occasionally enjoying the temporary company of a female (or male) companion.

But no one lasted long. He didn't expect to ever get married or—shudder—have children. The only thing he did expect was that like many before him, he would live and die as part of Torchwood. And therein lay the problem.

No, the problem wasn't his job, exactly. He enjoyed the whole catching aliens thing. Really he did. Doing autopsies on creatures that Spielberg would have killed to look at. Being left, without any clothes, handcuffed inside a cell by an alien more sex crazed than him

No, it was the people Owen worked with, you see, that were the problem. There was just too much underlining sexual tension amongst them. Maybe it was because they worked together and were really the only ones who knew the true purpose of the special ops team Torchwood.

Currently, Owen was sitting at his desk. It was a Friday afternoon, and the rift was being decidedly annoying by not giving them any aliens to chase after. Tosh sat at her desk, supposedly watching her monitors for any sign of rift activity, but Owen knew that behind her glasses her eyes were glazing over. Gwen had fallen asleep on the couch, the hand bearing her engagement ring thrown over her head. She had fallen asleep with her shoes on and everything.

Jack had finished every scrap of paperwork he could find, and eventually had to abandon his office for the company of his team. He sat in a chair near Tosh, rifling through a magazine. Owen would have found it much more convincing if the magazine had been turned right side up

Even Ianto had had to accept the fact that there was absolutely nothing else that needed cleaning; no coffee needed by anyone, or any stacks that needed straightening.

During this decidedly boring afternoon, Owen had begun to ponder his past, present, and future. No matter how he struggled, the thoughts just kept creeping into his mind.

He was still not fully over the loss of Diane, but he didn't think of her as often now. His battle scars still twinged a bit sometimes, but hardly at all anymore.

Frankly Owen was getting fed up with the emotions in his head. He was pissed at Jack, pissed at Ianto, really pissed at Toshiko, and about to murder Gwen.

But most of all, he was jealous as hell.

He was jealous that Gwen had Rhys to go home to every night; that she would marry him in a few months time. He was jealous that Rhys still got to see Gwen naked. (Admittedly he had gotten over his attraction to her, but the mind still wanders…)

He was jealous that while Gwen had a life outside of Torchwood, she also held favorable with Jack. Yes, Owen knew that while Jack and Gwen may not have been, nor might never be lovers, but they still had a connection. And that pissed Owen off to no end.

He was pissed at Jack mostly because he was bored and it sounded like a good idea. Jack may have given Owen one of the greatest one-night-stands ever (long, longggg story), but that didn't mean Jack could think of himself as God's gift to women, men, and aliens alike.

But behind the furious piss, lay the jealousy. Jack, while getting every gorgeous organism he wanted, was still sort of happy—with the office boy.

He was jealous of Ianto for much the same reason. For having a semi-happy life while Owen (although he would never admit it) was miserable.

Finally, he was currently pissed at Tosh because she made him feel insecure. No he wasn't deaf or blind. He knew she had tried—was trying so hard to let him know how she felt for him. He just didn't like that nagging thought in the back of his head which spoke up every time Tosh made a comment, what if…

He was jealous of Tosh for having control over her emotions while he was in turmoil. So he turned her down, every time, just because he liked someone else to be miserable for once.

* * *

Gwen—

Gwen Cooper was fuming. Well, she was fuming, and dreaming at the same time.

If her mum called her one more time about wedding plans, she just might jump off the roof of the Millennium Centre.

To top of the everyday stress from her job, and the added stress from the upcoming nuptials, she was dealing with a feeling she could have done without.

Jealousy.

She wasn't really concerned about Tosh, or Owen, or even Ianto. No, she was currently jealous of Jack.

He was a man with everything, and yet nothing. He had Ianto, not to mention every gorgeous living thing in the universe if he wanted them. He had a calm way of pretending that he was Mr. Cool in a trench coat. And Gwen was bloody colored green with jealousy that after everything the team had been through; Jack had kept that same suave look at life.

Not to mention the lingering attraction she felt for him. Jealous that he could go on like it was nothing.

Damn Jack Bloody Harkness to hell. He was costing her precious sleep with her troubled thoughts.

* * *

Toshiko—

Why doesn't he say something? I'm sitting right here. All he has to do is lean over, so I can smell that cologne he wears, and say—

But her thoughts were interrupted as Jack threw his magazine onto her desk. She sat up with a bolt. She had been about to have a lovely dream too, involving Owen…

But, alas, she went back to gazing at her monitors hopelessly, knowing it was stupid to be hoping for Owen to say something. But the dullness of the day seemed to be tearing at her thoughts and drawing every mixed emotion to the surface.

She could just kill Owen Harper. With that so-sure attitude and the way he swaggered into the hub in the mornings.

Lately, she had begun to envy Gwen's life with Rhys. Gwen had someone special. Someone outside of Torchwood who she could really talk to. And share her thoughts with.

Meanwhile Toshiko went home to a cold flat, and an even colder bed. Even her dreams, which used to be so comforting, now fell flat.

Toshiko had to admit it. She was in a rut. Her life was going nowhere. She would live and die with Torchwood. With little in between.

Wait. That was giving up a bit too easily. Recently, Owen had been a bit friendlier, or at least cordial to her. This strengthened her resolve a bit. But that didn't mean she couldn't hate Gwen's perfect life. If only a little bit. Resolved in her thinking, she allowed her eyes to glaze over once more.

Maybe he'll offer to get a coffee or something this weekend. I'm free and…

* * *

Jack—

Unlike the rest of Torchwood, Jack Harkness was feeling very little resentment or envy for his employees. In fact, he was enjoying the peaceful quite they so rarely got.

He was currently very busy, tracing the lining of Ianto's jaw with his eyes, and wondering what Ianto was thinking behind his steely gaze.

Alas, all he could do was wonder- and of course count the seconds until everyone else left to go home…

* * *

Ianto—

Jack may be surprised to know, but Ianto was actually thinking dirtier thoughts than Jack himself. Instead of tracing Jack's seamless jaw, he was instead tracing every crease in Jack's trousers, imagining what lay beneath and…

Well, you get the idea. As far as envy goes, Ianto only felt jealous of one person, and that was-well-Jack.

Mostly because he was sitting there so calmly while Ianto had to keep himself from jumping Jack's bones right then and there.

The silence was interrupted by a loud beeping being emitted by Tosh's rift tracker program, indicating alien debris.

Finally. And that, if you wanted to know, was a thought that every one of them shared as they rushed to get ready to head out.

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Disclaimer: Torchwood is the property of Russell T. Davies.


	2. Avarice

Avarice

Second in the Seven Deadly Sins Series

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From the first day to this, sheer greed was the driving spirit of civilization.

-Friedrich Engels

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Whenever Jack Harkness did finally get around to dying, her knew that on Judgment Day they would bring up his bad obsessions, kinky fantasies, and most of all his greed. In Latin, it would be called Avaritia, or Avarice. In the Vegas Galaxies it would be called a requirement.

Yes, Jack, like every other human in existence suffered from a bad case of greed. Why? Because no matter how often or how great the sex was, he couldn't seem to get enough of Ianto Jones. His every waking moment (and mind you, every second was a waking moment) Ianto occupied his thoughts.

When they were separated even for the smallest amounts of time he had this twinge in his neck that would bother him till they were reunited.

Now, sitting at his desk, he watched the clock, waiting for the time when the others would clear out. He couldn't send them home early today, because everyone was behind on work. Well, mostly the paperwork. He had even heard Owen say he would pay Ianto if he would fill out all the business stuff for him.

To pass the agonizing moments, he conjured up a mental image. Ianto, in the heat of passion; his mouth open, head tilted back, as he whispered, then screamed Jack's name; damp hair plastered to his forehead, green eyes tightly shut,-

Without realizing, he let out a small moan. Quickly composing himself, he straightened in his chair, and went back to watching the clock.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

Bloody clock.

He made a mental note to never let the others fall behind on work ever again.

Finally, he heard Toshiko, the last to leave, depart. Heard clattering as Ianto tidied up.

And he waited. Because he knew Ianto would come to him.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

Oh fuck waiting. If he was going to burn in hell for wanting Ianto Jones so much he ached, then he would most definitely earn his ticket to the devil's lair.

Tonight, he would go to Ianto. And if necessary, take him right there on the coffee table.

Greed is a very good thing.

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Disclaimer: Torchwood is the property of Russell T. Davies.


	3. Lust

Lust

Third in the Seven Deadly Sins Series

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Lust's passion will be served; it demands, it militates, it tyrannizes.

-Marquis De Sade

* * *

Ianto was vacuuming. Over the roar of the machine, Jack could just make out the faint sounds of a Welsh song escaping Ianto's lips as he worked. Jack smiled.

Jack was supposed to be working. The towering piles of paperwork on his desk leered at him menacingly. But Jack was sitting on the couch, feet propped up on the table, drinking coffee. And he was very content.

Tosh was busy working on some computer program or another. Owen was supposed to be down in the cells observing the Weevil, Janet, who had been acting odd lately. But Jack had the sneaky suspicion he had fallen asleep on the job, perhaps even sitting in his little stool, drooling, as Janet glared angrily at him. Gwen was… well, Jack wasn't entirely sure. She'd probably gone off home. Since getting engaged and revealing all to her future hubby, Gwen had been attempting to spend more time with Rhys. Jack couldn't blame her. It was a slow day and he was contemplating sending everyone home.

Of course, with Jack Harkness, ex conman, and current bringer of mischief, there was always an underlying purpose. Yes things were slow, but Jack really didn't care why his team left so long as they did it soon.

Jack Harkness was a very sexual being by nature. He came from a time of more open sexuality, of limitless experience. And right now, that internal consciousness Jack was convinced was controlled by his dick, was whispering dirty thoughts into Jack's ear as he watched Ianto saunter around the hub, having now expanded from vacuuming to general tidying.

Look at that cute little arse.

See how his trousers curve around that beautiful behind and come around to cup something even more delectable?

You can't wait to get him alone. Peel those trousers away and have your filthy way with him.

Jack couldn't help it. The thoughts whirled in his mind uncontrollably. The pressure in his groin was increasing two fold and Jack could feel the tent in his trousers, hard with need. Ianto continued cleaning to his OCD heart's content, completely unaware of Jack's state only a few yards away.

And it was enough. Jack was through waiting. The lust in his heart and body stood him on his feet and sent him in Ianto's direction.

"Hey, Tosh, seen Jack around?" Owen asked, climbing the stone steps up into the computer stations.

Toshiko looked up from her computer screen, and over the rims of her glasses at Owen. "No I haven't. Not a peep from around here either. Maybe he went out, weevil hunting." She turned back toward her screen.

"Right. Well, where's Ianto, I could murder a coffee right now."

"Haven't seen him in a while, either," she said without looking at him.

"Uh huh."

"Owen," she turned her chair to face him," just go home." And of course that was exactly what he wanted to hear.

"Okay." And he was gone. Tosh watched him walk out, following every movement with her eyes. Oh how she wanted him. Wanted him so badly it hurt. Wanted to feel his skin on her skin, his lips on her lips. She wanted him beneath her, above her, within her.

Toshiko bit her lip in frustration. Why was he so blind? Why couldn't he tell that she wanted him more than anything she had ever wanted in her life?

She turned off her computer in disgust at her desperation. It would be another lonely evening in her empty flat, with a bottle of wine and late-night telly.

Jack's alcove was dense with the smell of sweat and sex. The bed was damp, and above the covers lay two heaving bodies, arms and legs entangled.

Ianto was satiated. He had been pleasantly surprised when Jack had led him away from his tidying to have a middle-of-the-work-day-sex-session. Now, panting for air, he pulled Jack's arm tighter around himself. This was right where he wanted to be.

Jack was also quite comfortable. But as always he was already ready for round four. Yeah, round four. What can he say? His lust could never be quenched.

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A/N: I am so grateful to all those who reviewed and favorited. I still remember your words despite having to repost the story and losing them. I hope you, the reader, have enjoyed the story and please leave a review to tell me what you think.

**Disclaimer: Torchwood is the property of Russell T. Davies.**


	4. Gluttony

Gluttony

Fourth in the Seven Deadly Sins Series

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The belly has no ears.

- Plutarch

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"Rhys?" Gwen opened the door of their flat with her key. "Rhys?"

But Rhys was nowhere to be found. Instead Gwen opened the door to hell. Every visible surface was covered with food. And Banana Boat was lying on the floor in the kitchen. There was a Chinese take-out carton not two inches from his nose.

Gwen opened her mouth in horror. What the hell had happened here? There was Chinese food on the counter, open and half eaten. Beer bottles littered available surfaces. The fridge was half open and Gwen quickly sidestepped Banana to close it. Their electricity bill was already too high.

Besides the take-out cartons, there were two pizza boxes sitting on the back of the settee. Gwen stood in the middle of the kitchen in shock before turning around and seeing more.

The stove had pots and pans on every inch. One had a gray mush inside, another the leftovers of some sort of green thing. The oven door was ajar, as if someone was attempting to get rid of the burnt smell that still lingered in the room. The charcoaled remains of whatever had been "baked" were in the sink, glued to the tray.

Gwen decided to leave the horror that was the kitchen and made her way into the bedroom, where she found her dear husband, lying lifeless on the bed. She sat on the edge beside him.

When he felt the bed shift, Rhys opened his eyes.

"Gwen, I'm dying." He reached a hand out to grasp hers. But she swatted it away.

"No you're not. You're just a bloody drunk fool."

Rhys closed his eyes and moaned. Gwen shook him harshly.

"Rhys, what the hell happened here?"

Rhys didn't reply, but groaned instead.

"Rhys, I'm serious. Why does the flat look as though a bomb was dropped in it? And why is Banana in my kitchen?"

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

"Well you had best believe you're cleaning the mess up tomorrow."

Rhys nodded, and then seconds later was snoring.

The next morning Gwen woke up to breakfast in bed. Rhys clearly realized his residence in the dog house, and was attempting to make up for everything. He cordially informed her, whilst she was eating her eggs, that the flat was spotless and Banana banished.

"Thank you. But Rhys, what the hell happened?"

He looked a bit sheepish as he responded. "I was trying to make supper for you. To surprise you. But then you called and said you'd be pretty late. And by that point I'd already burnt the chicken and the dumplings." (Thus the gray mess was explained.)

"So I ordered pizza. Figured Ianto had dinner sorted for you lot. But then Banana showed up with a shitload of Chinese and beer and we sort of…dared each other who could eat the most.

"You bloody, foolish idiot."

"That's 'bout right, yeah."

"You're a bloody pig, Rhys Williams." he nodded, looking so puppy-like it killed her. "But you're my bloody pig. C'mere."

And she gave him a very quick peck on the mouth. He still smelled like burnt chicken.

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A/N: I hope you enjoyed! Please leave a review and tell me what you thought.

Check out my profile for other update news, and I also take requests for stories!

**Disclaimer: Torchwood is the property of Russell T. Davies.**


	5. Sloth

Sloth

Fifth in the Seven Deadly Sins Series

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You can't teach people to be lazy – either they have it, or they don't.

-Dagwood Bumstead

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It was unusually quiet in the hub this Tuesday morning. The rift monitor hadn't made a peep in hours. Gwen had passed out on the sofa from boredom and was now snoring lightly. Ianto was sitting in the kitchenette, flipping through a magazine, nothing else left to tidy. Jack was out doing – something, Tosh wasn't sure. And Tosh herself was sitting at her desk in a stupor, and watching.

Watching Owen.

She had been doing so for the past half hour. It had begun with her asking him repeatedly to help her look through some records she was trying to process into her computer. It would have taken him three minutes. But no, Owen Harper didn't help anyone but himself.

When she had asked him, he had titled his head back in his chair and gave a loud snore. Tosh had tisked loudly and prodded his knee with the end of a pen. He had shifted but continued snoring loudly until she left him alone. He had even cracked open an eye to make sure she had gone back to her own workspace.

That was then. Tosh had begun giving Owen a death glare, ignoring her work. But eventually she had fallen into a haze. Watching Owen sleep for real was interesting, and she considered this the closest thing she would ever get to sleeping with him.

He twitched in his sleep. Tosh loved the way he looked so childlike and peaceful as he slept, and his mouth hung open a little.

He wasn't really a snorer, or a drooler, just himself only less sarcastic.

And Tosh loved it. She didn't care that he was a lazy bum, as long as she could watch him sleep.

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A/N: Short, I know. But this just popped into my head. I am not abandoning this series and I have begun work on the final two chapters so expect them in about a week or so. Life is hectic but I'm trying to be good and not wait so long between each update!

Also, I do take requests for Torchwood stories, or other fandoms that I know about. So drop me a note if you want me to whip something up! I would be happy to.

**Disclaimer: Torchwood is the property of Russell T. Davies.**


	6. Wrath

Wrath

Sixth in the Seven Deadly Sins Series

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Men often make up in wrath what they want in reason.

-William Alger

* * *

His ears were ringing. The corners of his eyes were burning red, consuming him. He could feel it welling up inside of him.

Anger. Hatred. Power.

Oh so much power. It coursed through him. Made him invincible. Nothing could touch him.

The gate slams open and the creature circles him. A deadly beast. But he is not afraid. This sewer rat will not hurt him.

His eyes focus on his prey. He meets the creature's eyes, and for the first time realizes. This beast means no harm. He is simply out of his element surrounded by people taunting him, egging him on. But he does not care. He will kill this beast if it is his last act on earth.

He begins circling the monster now. Letting him know who exactly is in charge here.

His fingers are twitching; a tick has begun in his neck. His mind is set. He is waiting. Waiting to spring. He has been waiting so long. So very long to rid himself of this beast. The beast within. He can feel it gnawing at his insides. And he wants it to end.

He wants all of it to end.

So he lurches forward towards the monster-

And hits nothing but air. He falls to floor.

And all is silent. There are no more catcalls. No whoops. No spectators baying for blood.

He is alone.

The cage has disappeared and instead he finds himself on a bed. A familiar bed.

"Hello, Owen."

It can't be.

"Katie."

She is smiling. Oh that wonderful smile.

"It's alright Owen. You're safe now."

He is so confused. How can she be here? She died. He watched her empty casket being lowered into the ground. Knowing that her body lay rotting in some secret facility. Knowing that her empty casket reflected the emptiness he felt inside.

"But you died. You died! I saw you!" He sits up and attempts to touch her face. She places a hand on his chest and pushes him back into the mattress.

"Shh. It's alright. I'm with you now."

"Then… I'm dead? Am I dead?"

She smiles again. God he loved that smile.

"No." A new voice. A deeper one, older than her years, affected by time.

Owen looks towards the doorway.

"Diane."

God he loved her smile to. He would never admit to anyone but he could always go for a girl with a beautiful smile.

Her dark hair was fixed in her usual pristine fashion. She looked- exactly as he remembered her. Only more beautiful than ever before.

Suddenly she was beside him. And red lips were pressed against his forehead.

"Surrounded by beautiful women. Maybe there is a heaven after all."

Both women smiled again.

"Owen you aren't dead," Diane repeated.

"Not yet," Katie added.

"Not yet?"

Katie shook her head.

"You have so much left to do."

"But I-"

"So much left to live for." Diane grabbed one of his hands and held it firmly between hers.

"But you have to let it go, Owen," Katie said, her smile disappearing to be replaced by a look of worry. "You have to let it go."

"Let what go?"

"The anger, Owen. I'm not coming back. Katie isn't coming back. You have to move forward."

"You have so many who care about you. Don't let your anger swallow you whole. It will destroy you."

Owen closed his eyes. Deep down he could still feel it. Lurking, waiting for a time when it could resurface.

"I think it already has."

The women exchanged a glance. "Not yet," they said in unison.

"Take your time Owen. Live again. Laugh. Don't let this consume you." Katie stood, and made to move toward the door.

"Wait! I don't know how to beat this. It's in my mind, my bones, my existence. It will never leave me alone!"

"Oh Owen," Diane sighed, also standing, "no one said you had to do it alone."

"Just wake up."

"You'll see."

Diane blew him a kiss goodbye and left the room.

"I'll always love you Owen. No matter what." And then Owen was alone.

His mind was racing. Stomach churning. He had allowed his anger free reign for far too long. He wasn't having any of it. He closed his eyes, trying to breathe normally. He would not let the redness overtake him.

He would fight. Fight his inner demons until he won. Because he always won.

* * *

"Owen?"

He opened his eyes. He was in hospital. He could feel the wound on his chest. And he could make out the sounds of vague chatter and normal hospital commotion. His eyes adjusted to the lights and he could make out a face sitting to his left. Pale skin, dark hair. Reading glasses.

Toshiko.

"Oh, good you're awake!" She laid aside her Sudoku and took off her reading glasses, laying them on top.

She dug through her bag. "I need to call Jack. Tell him you're awake. He'll be upset he wasn't here."

"Tosh?" She looked up, fingers hovering over her cell keypad. He wondered why she didn't have her comm.

"Yes?"

"Could you…not?"

She closed the phone gently. "Why not? He's been very worried. We all have been."

"Could you just sit with me a while?" He watched her frown lines wrinkle up.

"Are you okay? "

"Yeah. I think I will be."

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Disclaimer: Torchwood is the property of Russell T. Davies.


	7. Pride

Pride

Seventh in the Seven Deadly Sins Series

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It is better to lose your pride with someone you love rather than lose that someone you love with your useless pride.

-Anonymous

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"Ianto." Jack banged on the bedroom door again. "Come on, open the door."

He could hear Ianto moving within but heard no reply. It had been this way for half an hour now. Ianto sulking in his room while Jack paced outside the door and attempted to apologize.

"Ianto." Jack sighed heavily. The first five minutes he understood; Ianto was renowned for his ability to hold a grudge. But as they had approached the twenty and then the thirty minute mark, Jack's patience had begun to slip.

"Open the door, Ianto. This is getting very childlike. Am I going to have to break it down and take you over my knee?" Jack chuckled, actually hoping the opportunity would present itself. He heard a slam, assumingly the ensuite bathroom door, and then footsteps.

Suddenly the bedroom door swung open and Jack was met with a very, very pissed Ianto Jones.

"Did you just threaten to take me over your knee? Who are you, my mother?" Ianto shoved past him and marched into the kitchen. Jack followed.

"I just meant you're acting like a little kid." Ianto slammed a coffee cup onto the counter (Jack was surprised it didn't shatter on impact.) He then began fiddling with his coffee maker, which looked almost as high-tech and expensive as the one housed at Torchwood.

"I am not a child."

"You were sulking. Over something ridiculous!"

"It was not! You are a pompous arse, and don't deserve to be in my kitchen. Get out!" Ianto gave him a shove towards the door, then turned and pressed a few more buttons. The machine roared to life.

But when Ianto turned back moments later, Jack still stood in the doorway between the kitchen and the den.

"I told you to get out!"

"I did. I got out of the kitchen." Ianto gave a loud, angry sigh and began slowly counting to ten in his head so that he wouldn't take a knife from the drawer and fling it at the very annoying Captain.

"Look, Ianto," Jack tried to reach out a hand to touch his shoulder but Ianto shrugged him off. "I'm sorry."

The coffee maker was beeping, indicating the brew was almost complete. Ianto turned and gave him an annoyed look, but one that said he was listening and might possibly forgive, if Jack gave the right answer.

"Sorry for what?"

"Sorry that you never win at Hide and Seek." Jack smiled his signature smile. Ianto threw a dishtowel at him.

"Jack! God, you really are an egotistical bastard. Do you ever think of anyone but yourself?"

Jack didn't answer.

"You're just so pissed off that I beat you. You can't handle not being the top dog all the time. Well, guess what? Sometimes I like to be on top."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah!"

Jack gave a suggestive grin, and, realizing the only way to make this situation go away, was to show Ianto that he didn't always have to be on top.

So he did.

* * *

Jack hadn't bottomed in quite some time, but it didn't matter. The saying was true; it was just like riding a bike.

Ianto lay behind Jack, his arms around his waist and one hand making patterns in the sparse hair on Jack's chest.

"Ianto?"

"Hmm?"

"I'm sorry I'm such an arse sometimes."

"Sometimes?"

"Okay, most of the time."

"You're forgiven. On one condition."

"What?"

"Next time we play Hide and Seek, I get a two item handicap."

"What? No way, that isn't-"

Ianto loudly cleared his throat.

"Agreed." And Jack snuggled in closer, understanding that sometimes you had to let go of your pride, in order to gain something else.

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A/N: So, I am finally finished with this story! Yay! Thank you to all who have reviewed or favorited or whatnot. They do mean a lot to me. I hope you all have enjoyed this story, and please be on the lookout for more!

sl

PS: Please review!

**Disclaimer: Torchwood is the property of Russell T. Davies.**


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